LIONS AND TIGERS AND BEARS . . . AND BUNNIES
PALO ALTO, CA — 1972 — Though it was an exclusive and elite college, Stanford struggled on the gridiron. Since losing the first Rose Bowl in 1902 (49-0), the team had returned just eight times. Then suddenly in 1971-72, back-to-back Rose Bowl victories! Fame! Glory! Winning football in Palo Alto! But that team name!
The Stanford Indians? That might have passed in 1930 when the name was adopted, but the liberal Bay Area demanded a change. And so, long before the Washington Redskins and Cleveland Indians owned up, Stanford sought a new mascot. In a campus-wide referendum, students chose. . . The Indians. Sorry, that wasn’t going to stick. The search continued.
With few exceptions, sports teams around the world are named for their host cities. FC Barcelona. Paris Saint-Germain. Bayern Munich. But ever since the first college football game in 1869 pitted the Rutgers Queensmen against the Princeton Tigers, America’s high school and college teams have been personified, or more often animalized.
Yale Bulldogs. USC Trojans. Michigan Wolverines. UMass Minutemen. Let’s take a timeout to ask why.
“Partisan sports fans use their fandom to cultivate and reproduce their own identities as members of a larger, socially significant community,” said Professor Erin C. Tarver of Emory University (Go Eagles!) Having a team mascot, she added, turns the “I” into “we.”
Still, not just any mascot will do. Whittier College honors its namesake, John Greenleaf Whitter, but can a 280-pound tackle hold that line while playing for the Poets? Even if a certain vegetable is a Southern staple, must Delta State in Mississippi be the Fightin’ Okra? And we know that UC Santa Cruz has to be hippie weird, but the Banana Slugs?
America’s most popular high school mascots are predictably tough and inspiring. They are, in order: Eagles, Tigers, Bulldogs, Panthers, Wildcats, Warriors, Lions, Indians, Cougars, and Knights.
So which way, Stanford? When the Indians went down— again — students had a little fun. How about the Stanford Trees? The Railroaders? The Spikes? The Huns? In 1975, another campus-wide referendum honored the college’s namesake, Leland Stanford, by choosing The Robber Barons. The administration was not amused. The search continued.
Along with animals, many teams pump up their players with mascots based on romanticized rebels. The Outlaws. The Pirates. The Raiders. The Buccaneers. Filling out America’s top 100 mascots, these names show that football remains a dreamscape of power and pride. Who wants to play for a team named after some loser animal? Some prey rather than predator?
But beyond championships and bowl winners lies a kinder, cooler truth — an entire league of offbeat high school team names gracing gridirons from coast-to-coast.
Back in 1913, when Yuma (AZ) High trounced an opponent, the team was accused of cheating. And called “criminals.” The name stuck. This season, the Yuma Criminals are 1-7, but looking for revenge against the Somerton Toros or perhaps the Kofa Kings. Go, Criminals!
Abundant flowers on the prairies of southern Minnesota gave the town of Blooming Prairie its name. But the lilting name didn’t fit with Tigers, Knights, or Bulldogs. So in 1979, BP students began calling their team the Awesome Blossoms. The Blossoms went 5-3 this year, including an awesome 57-13 watering of the hapless Medford Tigers.
Further south, although the prairies of Nebraska abound in rabbits, no one at Benson High in Omaha has any idea how the team came to be called the Mighty Bunnies. Cheered and shouted with a straight face, the Mighty Bunnies played their hearts out this season. But after losing by 56-7, 51-7, and 55-0, the Bunnies might be in the market for a mightier mascot.
Some team names are ironic. The Mars High (PA) Fightin’ Planets. The Clayton Valley Ugly Eagles (seems a coach in the Sixties didn’t care for his players’ long hair.) The Webb School (TN) Feet. Other names are delightfully odd. The Dunn School Earwigs. The Cobden (IL) Appleknockers. And the Attic’s favorite, the Life Academy of Health and Biosciences. . . Biohazards.
But some names are contextual. If you play for Hamlin High in Hamlin, Texas, the Pied Pipers makes sense. Likewise what could you call a team from Frankfort, Indiana if not the Hotdogs? And when your school is in Poca, West Virginia, how about the Dots? Go Poca Dots!
High schools can afford to be creative, but the pros have to take names seriously, so seriously that they can’t be changed even when they no longer fit. So the NBA’s New Orleans Jazz moved to Utah, where there is precious little jazz. But they’re still the Utah Jazz. Likewise the L.A. Lakers long ago moved from Minnesota’s “land of 10,000 lakes.” But they’re still the Lakers, even though L.A. has maybe two lakes — total.
Stanford apparently felt the same pressure. Rejecting Robber Barons, the adminstiration finally chose a name in 1982. And the winner was. . . The Cardinals. Which had been the team name before 1930. Ho-hum. And the Stanford Cardinals have reached the Rose Bowl only four times since.
So Go Cardinals! Rah rah Raiders! But there’s something just so American about rooting for the New Berlin (CT) Pretzels. The Watersmeet (MI) Nimrods. And of course, the Mighty Bunnies. Tough season there, Bunnies. If not a new name, maybe a new head coach?
